Caught in a Bad Romance
by HarlotQuinn
Summary: Tonya Lynn is a 28 year old survivor trying to make it solo after losing her entire family. By some fortune she found a cozy little trailer to hole up in. Content to live out her days alone. That is until a certain crossbow wielding redneck enters her life.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to AMC, all production companies involved and the creators. I am making no profit from this story. I am simply borrowing the characters for my own amusement.

A/N: This is my first attempt at a TWD fic, so bear with me. It may be a rough ride. Also, dialogue is intentionally misspelled to represent the Southern American accent.

I was asleep when it happened, curled up in my bed and oblivious to it all. We had watched the news, we knew what was coming, but nothing could have prepared us for what came. There were just so many of them, all around. You'd have thought with as many zombie movies as I had seen in the past, I'd be a little more ready for this. But when my dad burst into my room and said we need to go, I froze. Oh god no. Please no. But it was true, and I was lost.

So I pulled a bag out from under my bed and mindlessly stuffed clothing into it. Downstairs mom and dad gathered blankets and food, all of our camping equipment and stuffed it into the car. I ran outside with a bag slung over my shoulder and our pet dog Joey in my arms. Climbing into the back, we took off.

"We'll head ta Atlanta." Dad said, looking over at mom who could only shrug, terror written across her face like a flashing neon red sign."

"NO!" I yelled, shaking my head furiously. "No, ya never go to the big cities, it would hit there first and hard, we gotta head out ta the country where there's less people. Most likely we'll be away from 'em." I reasoned, at least that's what always happened in the movies. It made sense though, and dad nodded,

"Yer probly right, Kitten."

So as everyone took off towards the city, we headed out the opposite direction, Allentown was already in the middle of nowhere, but the deeper we went into the woods the more likely we would be safe. I clung onto Joey, watching as we drove past people I once called friends, now shriveled and dying. It was too much.

We drove until dusk, the sky turning orange and purple. Pulling off into some brush we moved into the trees, setting up the tent and starting a very small fire. Dad kept a hold of his shotgun, and mom and I were armed with machetes. If there was one thing to be said about living in the country, it's that we knew how to handle weapons. We heated a few cans of beans and sat around the fire, not talking, just eating and straining our ears to hear even the slightest disturbance.

Dad took the first watch, and Ma and I went into the tent to try to get some semblance of sleep. I was restless though. Too much had happened in one day and my brain was struggling to catch up. we still didn't know the whole story, what this was and how it spread. All I knew what that I was now living in one of the horror movies that I used to love so much. I tried my best to concentrate on the crackling of the fire, a sound that I had learned to love so very much in my childhood, only now it sounded like a booming noise coming over and over again. Surely if there were any zombies in these woods they would hear that. I had only just nodded off when dad came into the tent, handing me the gun.

"There's'ah few hours til daylight, should be allight." He said, lying down as I pulled myself out of the tent and sat next to the fire. Every sound was positively nerve wracking. I was so twitchy and jumpy. I hadn't been this scared of the dark since I was a baby.

The rest of the night passed without event, as did the next week. We didn't see a single zombie anywhere. We guessed that this was the right move, however every few days we pushed on. Eventually coming to a farmhouse. There were a few people inside, and they were kind enough to let us stay. We spent the next two months living freely and safely. It was nice, and I made friends with the farmers son, he was cute and about my age, give or take a couple months. We got along pretty well. Everything was awesome those two months, then it all went to shit.

I was dead asleep when the first shots rang out, and bolted to my window within seconds. I couldn't believe it, there as easily fifty of them, horribly outnumbering our six. Mom ran into the room and told me to grab my bag, my gun and my knife. The guys were taking care of the dead and we would head out through the back woods, all of the gunfire was likely to drag them out so we could probably get away safely if we did it right. After loading up another bag with stuff from the kitchen she headed out the back door, there were only three of them back there, and they were easily dispatched by my knife. Or at least I thought they were…

It wasn't until we were nearly at the car that I heard my mother scream. I whipped around in time to see her fall to her stomach, one of the zombies biting into the back of her calf, I screamed for my father and charged, knocking it away from her and delivering another stab to it's head, this time right through the very crown. Before it even fell limp I was at my mother's side. Daddy running towards us. Tears welled in my eyes while he stood, looking on in disbelief. She rolled onto her back, lifting a hand and resting it on my face.

"Run, baby…" She whispered, and I just nodded, kissing her on the cheek before bolting towards the car. The other men were working their way over to us. I heard the shot, but didn't see it. I knew she was gone, and I knew I didn't have time to mourn. I dived into the back of the truck, helping pull Ricky and Daddy in with me while mister and missus Harold rode shotgun. He pushed the truck to the limit as we sped away from the house. I looked back sadly, it had been a nice little home. And not it was gone. And it was the first of many.

Over the next year I would lose all of them very slowly. A bad case of pneumonia took Mr. Harold. Grief took his wife. Ricky got bit. And Daddy….

We were running, somehow we ended up near Atlanta, but for the life I me, I can't explain how. I didn't even know how long we had been on the road to be perfectly honest. A year and a half? Two? I don't even know. The leaves were just starting to turn again. Anyways, we were running along a slight cliff, walkers behind and to the side of us. No way to go but forward. So we ran, and ran. My lungs were burning, my heart was pounding. I was coated in sweat and scared out of my mind. I didn't even register what had happened as I watched my father tumble down the cliff. There was nothing I could do, and Mama had told me to run. So I did. Tears threatening to spill, blurring my vision. I was alone now. In an area of the state I knew nothing about. Two dozen zombies behind me and only ten bullets in my gun.

After what felt like hours, right when I knew if I didn't stop my lungs would explode, I saw it. A shitty little trailer, but it had an elevated porch that ran the length of it, sticking out four feet easily on either side. With my back pressed against a tree and my hands on my knees I looked behind me. They weren't in my line of vision, but I could hear their feet. I'd have to move fast.

With all the strength I had left in me I bolted, straight through the trees, around the shed and up the four steps to the porch. I wasted no time bringing out my heavy hatchet and laying waste to them, spots of the wood so old that they simply crumbled. I look up, there they were, looks like a couple of them got lost, but still too many. I darted around to the other side and repeated the process as quickly as I could. I knew the sound was telling them exactly where I was, but this was the only way I could make sure I was safe. Trailer doors weren't exactly zombie proof.

When I finished I shoved on the door until it cracked open. They were here, I HAD to get inside. And with all the force I could put behind it, another shove caused me to fall into the little home. I slapped the door closed with my foot and just lay on the dirty carpet, gulping in breaths of air. It didn't even hit me for a full five minutes how rank the smell inside was. Someone had died in here, and it was recent. Realizing I was lying on the floor of a room I hadn't even bothered to check yet I stood up quickly, knife in hand, and began to poke around.

It was clear with the exception of a few rats that I threw out the window. There was a corpse of course, some poor asshole that blew his own brains out, but I just dumped a bottle of febreeze that I had found on the carpet outside the door, I would deal with that when it was safe to go out again. If that ever happened. I thought for a moment about just chopping it up and throwing it out the window, but it was still pretty juicy. So I closed the door to that room and tried to forget about it.

I made my way back to the kitchen and started pulling open cabinets. There was one that was full of nothing but bottles of water. "Not bad…" I mumbled to myself, moving onto the next one that was mostly empty aside from a couple cans of tuna. There were dishes and pots and pans, and just when it started to look grim on the food end, I opened the pantry. It was almost like I could hear angels singing. Seven shelves stocked with cans and bags. Everything from corn to spam. Granted, it wasn't ideal but who the hell cares! I had food! And enough to last me a month if I was smart about it. There was also about six gallons of distilled water in the bottom.

Okay, this was too fucking good to be true. I had to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming or not. Sure enough, this was really happening. And then the thought struck me… if this was real...then…

"Daddy…" I whimpered, sinking down to my knees with my face in my hands. I cried, I cried for Mama, and Daddy, and everyone else. I cried for myself because I knew there was no way I'd make it very long by myself. I cried because every inch of my body hurt. I cried because I was tired, and scared and alone and the world was now so much more scary than it was before. And eventually I pulled myself into a bedroom and climbed into a bed. The first actual bed I'd seen in well over a year. And I slept, it was just getting dark when I fell asleep, and the sun was well in the sky when I woke.

After pulling myself up and looking out the window I smiled to see that the herd had thinned a bit, but still way too many for me to risk stepping out the door. While I still felt a horrible deperssion over me, the sleep had helped some. Out of curiosity I went to the stove and flipped one of the burners on. just to see if there was any propane left in the tank I found outside. Laughter bubbled out of me when I heard the soft 'whoosh' coming from it. "Jackpot…" I giggled and grabbed a can of spam. After lighting the burner with some matches I had in my bag I fried it up and mixed it in with some mac n cheese. I looked at the gloriously full pot and my stomach growled louder than I'd ever heard. You better believe that I ate every last bit of it, even licked the inside of the pot for good measure. And then I sat there, on the couch, too fucking full to move.

This went on for a few days, though I kept my portions to more reasonable sizes, and finally on the fifth day it was clear enough for me to drag the dead body outside and toss it into some trees. While out there I also snagged a couple of eggs out of a birds nest, hoping that they would be decent enough to eat. I meandered back inside, enjoying the feeling of air on my skin.

Then I saw it, a man running out of the same set of trees that I had come out of nearly a week beforehand, he had long-ish dirty brown hair, nice arms and was carrying a crossbow. There was a decent sized heard behind him and I called out. "HEY!" He stopped and looked in my direction. "In here!" I pointed towards the door and he didn't need much more prompting, heading straight to the trailer and jumping up onto the porch. I grabbed him by the arm and pushed him inside the door, slamming it shut behind her and locking it. I looked over at the panting man and the first thought that struck my mind was 'goddamn sexy,' the next was

"You ok?" I asked, looking over him for any injuries, there were a few scrapes on his arm but they looked to be more from tree branches. He nodded and looked up at me. We just stood there for a moment, awkwardly. I could tell he was trying to decide if he could trust me, so I held up my hands in a surrendering manner. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, hon. And it's just me."

"Ight…" Was his only response and I held out my hand politely.

"I'm Tonya Lynn." I smiled softly, and he nodded.

"Daryl."

Okay so that was chapter one, I'm really not sure where I'm going with this and it may well just sit here for a while. Not sure yet. Anyways, R&R! Thanks loves.


	2. Chapter 1

See Chapter one for disclaimer.

A/N: The prologue got two followers within an hour of being posted. Never had that happen before. Pretty awesome. This chapter will switch to third person perspective.

"Tank's almost full." Daryl said as he walked back into the trailer. Tonya had sent him outside to check the propane tank about ten minutes ago. She'd heard him fighting but he insisted that he didn't need her help, so she had went about making food. His arms were covered in gore and she gave him a disapproving glance and instructed him to go wash his hands. While he was cleaning up she dished out something that resembled spaghetti and handed the bowl to him as he walked out of the bathroom. He takes it and sets down on the couch, she settles next to him, curling her legs up under herself.

"So 'bout how long will that last?" Tonya asked in reference to the propane tank. She knew practically nothing about anything involving mechanics, engineering… or manly things in general. Aside from camping and hunting. That was something they found they both had in common.

"Depends…"

"Depends on…?" She chuckled, taking a bite of her food.

"On how much we used it," He replied, taking a bite of his own, "S'long as we don't run the heat too much or take long showers we should make it through the winter."

Her eyes lit up "Showers? Seriously?!" Daryl smiled at the excitement on her face.

"Well yeah, water's still runnin,I just relit the pilot light."

"I think I may have just fallen in love with you," Tonya chuckled, going back to her food. Daryl gave a laugh, looking down into the bowl.

"Ya know, this kinda looks like walker guts." He said as he pushed the pasta around with his fork. Tonya stopped with her's raised halfway to her mouth, just staring at him like he had grown another head.

"Thanks for that…." She groans as she sets the bowl down on the floor, lookiing at the food with disgust. Daryl laughed with a shrug.

"Sorry,"

"No it's fine, you'd think after two years on the road I'd have toughened up a bit by now." She responded with a smile. Daryl nodded.

"You'll be ok… but if you ain't gonna finish that…" He just laughed as Tonya plopped the rest of her food into his bowl. She made her way out to the kitchen and rinsed out of bowl. Tonya was happy that they were settling in nicely. Daryl told her about how he got separated from his group, how he had been looking for them for nearly three months. And she had told him all about everything that had happened. They had both lost people, and that helped them form a bond over the two weeks that he had been here with her. Last week she had sent him on a run to a lumber yard, having him bring back some wood to help seal off the doors and windows. It was almost like a prison in the trailer, but at least it was somewhat safe. A few days ago they had cracked open the shed and discovered what was once a very small man cave, well stocked with beer. They both got pretty hammered that night. And now here they sat again, drinking and talking as they did most nights anymore. It was comfortable and Tonya liked it, Daryl seemed to as well.

Tonya came out of the kitchen and handed Daryl another warm beer before curling up on the couch with a bottle of wine in her hand. "Hell of a time for me to develop alcoholism." She giggled, taking a drink from her own bottle.

"Nah, yer just bored. I am too. And we have all this beer. Might as well enjoy it. Besides… don't want it ta go bad, ya know?" He responded just moments before draining his own drink. Tonya laughed and laid down on the couch, stretching her feet into his lap.

"So you never answered me…" She said as the man started rubbing her feet absentmindedly.

"Answered what?" He asked, looking over at her.

"Are ya stayin here or not?"

Daryl looked down at her feet, his brow furrowed slightly. Honestly he didn't know. He thought about going and finding the others, but with as long as it had been he really doubted that he ever would again. Besides, it wasn't so bad here. They had enough food and water to go a month without making a run, there was beer and Tonya had looted about twelve cartons of cigarettes from the gas station down the street. Besides, this girl, she was fuckin' beautiful. Tall and curvy with long curly blond hair and big, beautiful blue … he could probably hang here for a while.

"I'll stick around for a bit," He said, nodding softly. "Ain't like I got anywhere else to go, ya know."

"What about your friends?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. With how he talked about them she was surprised that he had been here this long. "Don't you wanna find 'em?"

"Of course I do, sugar. And I will, but I think I earned a little break," He nodded soundly, showing that he made up his mind, then he pushed her feet off of him. "Get me another beer, will ya?"

Tonya laughed and rolled off the couch before jumping up to her feet. She already felt a little tipsy. She wanders into the kitchen and grabs the entire case, bringing it out and setting it in front of him. "There ya go, now drink up so I can take advantage of ya." She smirked.

"Stop." He chuckled and cracked open another one. How nice would it be if it was cold, but this was still better than nothing. They sat in silence for a while, comfortable and getting progressively drunker. Eventually Tonya ended up with her head on his shoulder, Daryl's arm around her back with his hand resting on her hip. It was getting late and she was feeling tired.

"Should probly board the door back up…" She mumbled, yawning. Daryl nodded, but just took another drink of his beer. It took a moment but Tonya finally managed to stand and stumble her way to the bathroom, she pushed the door closed but didn't bother to lock it as she stripped out of her slightly bloody clothing. Laundry was the one thing they hadn't figured out yet, so clothes were starting to get a little rank.

Tonya gave a moan as she stepped under the water, two years and she had forgotten how wonderful hot water felt. So there she stood, unmoving for a good ten minutes before she actually started to wash herself, using a bottle of fancy smelling soap she found under the counter. Then moved onto her hair. It was too good to be true and she didn't want to get out. She never noticed the sound of the door opening, or the moving of the shower curtain, but when a pair of perfectly muscular arms surrounded her waist. Tonya squeaked in surprise and turned around quickly.

"What're you doin'?" She chuckled, trying to wiggle away from him as he buried his face against her neck.

"You smell good," He groaned, tightening his arms around her.

"Daryl you're drunk."

"Mhm…" he nodded, breathing her in again. She just stood there for a moment, she honestly didn't mind, but if this was going to happen she preferred to be able to remember it. She sighed and softly pushed him away from her, reaching up and touching his face.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed." She smiled softly and he nodded. She shut the water off and wrapped herself into a towle. Daryl tugged his pants back on and followed Tonya to the bedroom they shared, it was the only one with a bed in it. She pulled on a pair of underwear and a long t shirt and slipped under the covers, Daryl only moments behind her. His arm hooked around her waist and he pulled her over to him, spooning against her. She was relieved when that was all that happened, he seemed to fall asleep within moments. Tonya just smiled and cuddled closer to him.

The night remained quiet, as most did around here. The walkers must have wandered out into the forest after some random wild animal. And when Tonya woke up the next day she found herself with a headache and an empty bed. It was with no small amount of effort that she pulled herself up and made her way into the kitchen where she could smell spam and powdered eggs. She felt her mouth water and loaded up a plate before heading into the living room where Daryl sat. She just smiled softly at him and he returned the smile.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night, I dunno what I was doin." He said, feeling slighlty awkward around the women. In truth he knew exactly what he was doing, something he had thought about since he first laid eyes on her, but it wasn't really his style to just take a woman to bed without really knowing her. That was more Merel's thing. But Tonya only smiled.

"It's ok, D. I know you were drunk." She leaned over and pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek before setting down next to him to eat her breakfast. He only smiled and placed a hand on her knee. They sat in a comfortable, amiable silence for most of the morning.

That was mostly filler to be honest, I'm not entirely sure where I'm gonna go with this, so I might just be bullshitting for a while. Expect some Walker action in the next chapter though. Thank's for readin, and be sure to leave comments.


	3. Chapter 2

See chapter one for disclaimer

A/N:I'm surprised at the response to this story. Thank you all so much!

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Tonya jumped and turned around at the sound of something being dropped into her shopping cart. She looked up at Daryl to see him standing there with what could only be called a shit-eating grin on his face. She looked down into the cart to see no less than seven boxes of tampons and rolled her eyes.

"Thanks," She chuckled, and he gave her a smirk.

"You asked for 'em, sugar."

Tonya blushed, he had started calling her all kinds of adorable nicknames lately. It was nearly the end of month two of living together, and supplies in the house were starting to run low. So they found their way to a grocery store a few miles down the road. Luckily it hadn't been too badly looted and they had been able to get quite a bit. Tonya had nearly lost her mind when she discovered a few packs of chocolate covered donuts. Granted, they were stale, but chocolate was chocolate, especially this time of the month.

The place was a mess, and now littered with walker corpses as they had had to take out a good dozen of them just to get into the door. And Daryl had made sure to check the roof this time before they moved inside. Once in the door they both took carts and started gathering what they could. After about a half hour they had a good two week supply of food and water, along with a few other necessities; shampoos, soap, toilet paper, what little ammo they could scrounge up from the sporting goods area. They packed everything into their packs and the extra bags they had brought, and once everything was secured they made their way out of the store and back towards the trailer.

The walk back was relatively quiet, a few strays crossed their path, and were easily dispatched with use of Daryl's crossbow. But when they reached the trailer their hearts stopped. It was surrounded by walkers, an ocean of them. There was no way they were getting through. Tonya looked to Daryl and he nodded, they began to back away, Tonya not realizing that there was a branch under her foot until it snapped. She stopped moving instantly, breath caught in her throat. At first none of the walkers moved. But slowly, they turned, Daryl grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run beside them.

Their feet beat the pavement and dirt hard. It wasn't that the Walkers were hard to outrun or anything, it was just that they never fucking stopped. This was the moment that the two of them realized how much of a mistake it was to stay in one spot smoking cigarettes for two months. After twenty minutes they both burst into the door of a run down house on the side of a country road. Thankfully the doors locked and they were far enough ahead of the hoard that they could lock up and the Walkers would be none the wiser. Tonya was leaning back against the door, panting, while Daryl checked the house. There was only one Walker in the house, and a couple of corpses. But they decided to let the bodies be. The smell would cover their scent and they would be safe for a few days.

After a quick break with some water they went about reinforcing the house. Windows were nailed shut and covered with whatever blankets or sheets they could find. They pulled up loose floorboards and nailed shut the door. Everything took nearly an hour, and by the time they finished they both fell onto the broken down couch in the corner.

Tonya fell asleep quickly, but Daryl wasn't quite tired yet. So he went about checking the house. There wasn't much. It was a one bedroom, still retaining the bed. There was a small bathroom with a large clawfoot tub dominating it. The kitchen was bare, save for a small propane stove top, it must have belonged to the two bodies in the back of the house. The tank still seemed to have a little life in it though, so he went about warming a couple cans of green beans. It was a far cry from the vegetable soup that Tonya had planned to make for them that night, but it was better than nothing.

Once the food was heated, he went back out to the living room and gently nudged her awake. Tonya shifted and winked up at him, sitting up with a groan. Daryl took the seat next to her again and handed her a can. With a sigh, she accepted it, digging into it with the offered fork.

"If we wait a week we might be able to get the trailer back." Daryl said, giving her a sideways glance. She didn't immediately respond, looking into the can with an unreadable expression. He didn't think anything of it. Sometimes she got quiet. So he went back to eating. It wasn't until he felt her start to shake that he looked back over at her. There were tears in her eyes, she was silently sobbing. When she looked at him he felt something in himself break. As hard as he had tried to keep his distance emotionally, he had really started to care for the woman. And he hated seeing her upset. It almost gave him the "do anything in the world to see her smile" thing to him.

He sat the can down on the floor and reached out for her, pulling her up so her head rested on her shoulder. He didn't say anything though. But Tonya didn't need him to. She just curled herself up more, burying her face against his stubbly neck. She clung tight to him, and he held her gently.

"I don't think I can do this," She whimpered. "This is all too hard. I just want to wake up in my room with my mom and dad downstairs and have my computer and the internet to watch stupid cat videos!" Again, Daryl didn't say anything. He had heard this before. He knew the best thing he could do was let her cry it out. And she did, she stayed curled in his arms like a child for nearly an hour. By the time she stopped she had climbed into his lap. With a shiver and a sniffle she wiped her eyes and looked up at him. "I-I'm sorry…." She whispered, moving to get out of his lap when his arms tightened around her. Holding her in place. He wouldn't say it, but he needed her too. So far he'd lost every person he cared about. They had wandered off, gotten separated, or died. Every time he got close to someone, they disappeared. He didn't want to lose her too. He'd probably never say any of that out loud. But it was what he really felt. Having her in his arms let him know that she was still here and safe. As long as she was there, he couldn't lose her.

"D?" Tonya said, barely above a whisper, reaching up and touching his face. He blinked and looked down at her, having lost himself in the faces of everyone he'd lost. He hand was still on his face, "Where'd you go just now?" Concern was written all over her face, and all he could do was shake his head.

"Nothin', I'm fine." But Tonya wasn't buying it.

"Don't do that, don't pull away. We've known each other for two months, somethin's up." She whispered, stroking his face with her fingers. He didn't really know how to respond. So he did the first thing that came to mind. He bent his head to her, and kissed her. It was a ghost of a kiss, brushing over her lips so fast she wasn't even sure if it had really happened. So she reached out and pulled him to her again, pressing her lips to his harder, her hand slipping into his hair.

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A/N: Cutting it off here. The next chapter will be rated M for… uh… obvious reasons. Comments, questions and critique is welcome. Also, if there's anything you'd like to see in this story let me know.


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